


Collection of Random Komaeda Love

by FlyingStarKat



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gender-neutral Reader, I have to remind myself to use he/him when writing aaaaaa, I'm also bad at tagging oops, I'm inconsistent as fuck ok, Multi, also I apologize if I ever refer to Ko as 'they', oneshots, since not everyone shares my headcanons :P, sporadic updates lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingStarKat/pseuds/FlyingStarKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really love Ko ok. This child gives me hOPE and it's v nice. Also I have no effing clue where most of these fall in the dr universe; I guess unless otherwise stated, assume the events fall either post-despair, or in some no-despair au?? shRUG EMOJI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collection of Random Komaeda Love

**Author's Note:**

> This gets kinda sad and maybe even ooc at the end; my only excuse is that it's four in the morning aaaaaaa

    You and Komaeda were never ones for small talk. You could never keep up the energy required for a proper conversation, and Komeda himself usually derailed to some form of borderline hysterics. Even when he didn’t, he had a hard time grasping proper social etiquette, leading him to say something odd, which would in turn make it even  **harder** for you to figure out a way to respond.

    Simply put, it was much easier to sit in silence, conveying messages through varying degrees of body language. The two of you had been together long enough to understand the subtle movements of the other, so why even try to rely on words?

    After all, everyone claims that actions speak louder than words.

 

    When Komaeda wanted your attention, he’d start with fidgeting slightly. He’d shift ever-so slightly, making sure to brush against you. He’d tap his foot a couple times, maybe flick his eyes from one focus point to another, only to return to whatever he was looking at before. By then you were already awaiting the next sign, the clear giveaway of just  **what** he wanted.

    If he were to press against you more, perhaps even lay his head on you if he was particularly bold, you’d know that he was just craving affection. That’s when your arm would slip around his frail frame, glancing up at him with the faintest of smiles. He’d return the gesture tenfold, and let some sort of self-deprecating string of words slip from his still smiling lips. (『 _ Ah, are you sure you want to come into contact with trash like me? _ 』『 _ I don’t think I’m worthy of such attention, but if you’d really like…! _ 』『 _ I’m sorry if I’m an inconvenience; I really am worthless scum, aren’t I? _ 』)

    You learned long ago to just ignore him. Your words of encouragement only spurred him to bring himself down more; you only hoped that your willingness to give him your complete and undivided attention was enough to make him feel worth  **something** .

    The two of you would eventually end up curled in each other’s embrace on the couch, Komaeda’s light frame draped across you as you’d run your fingers through his hair. He’d snuggle against your chest as you would hum softly, eyes usually closed in content. You’d sneak the occasional glance at Komaeda, his blissful expression causing the corners of your lips to tug upwards each and every time. It was one of the few moments that the luck-infected teen would seem completely at ease, sending waves of joy through you at the idea.

    He deserved it, in all honesty. His life had been absolute hell, and he was constantly fearful that it’d get worse. Especially after he let you in even a little bit. That was how his life had always worked, after all.

 

    On the rare occasions that Komaeda was about to have a breakdown, his behavior would become fairly predictable. His eyes would begin to water out of the blue, and he’d try to distance himself from you without catching your attention; you’d let him go at first, because you knew that if you try to take immediate action, he’d only freak out more. The moment he was out of sight, however, you began your ‘search’, if you could call it that. He’d always go to a closet, so you’d just have to figure out which one; it was usually the one in your shared bedroom.

    You were always as quiet as possible, sliding the door open silently as to not startle him. If you were lucky, he’d just rise from his spot curled up in the back and make his way to the bed slowly, and you’d lull him to sleep as he silently cried. You were rarely that lucky.

    In most cases, he’d press himself against the floor and the wall even more, his eyes wide with silent terror as tears streamed down his sickly pale cheeks. The moment you’d lay your hand on his shoulder, your touch light as a feather because you  **knew** what was coming, he’d snap, pushing your hand away frantically as he’d jolt upwards, breathing erratic and face contorted in absolute fear and helplessness. Your arms would wrap tightly around his frame in an instant, trying to restrain him more than give him comfort; he was too out of it to really pay any attempts any mind anyways. He’d struggle and you’d feel your heart crack, but your grip wouldn’t loosen until the thrashing finally stopped, until all that was left was him standing there limply, whimpering as tremors wracked his frame. That’s when you’d finally pull away, hands resting on his arms as you’d gaze silently into his dull green-grey eyes. By now, you knew exactly what was going through his head. He was afraid of his luck, afraid of what was to come. He was hurting, unable to ignore all the sorrow that he repressed to cope with the vicious cycles that dictated his life. He was angry at himself for putting you in harm’s way, selfishly growing attached to you.

    You had only managed to get him to admit such once; but that was more than enough for you to work with.

    You’d practically drag him to the bed, gently pushing him to lay down on the soft, expensive sheets. You’d then settle on the bed yourself, leaning you back against the headboard and pulling Komaeda up to rest his head in your lap. That’s when he’d curl tightly against you, stray tears managing to slip from his tightly closed lids. You’d start your speech, reassuring him that nothing bad was coming his  **or** your way. You’d remind him of the years he spent alone, isolated and wanting nothing more than relief from the constant trade-off of good and bad luck, craving love and affection, but never been willing to risk the life of someone else for his own desires. By then, his features would be more relaxed, knowing what was coming next. Your hand would still, and he’d glance up at you, eyes glazed over in a swirl of different emotions. You’d tilt your head slightly, your eyes slipping closed as you’d smile and say,『 _ Surely, all that bad luck is enough to finally land you want you wanted, even if it’s just me? _ 』

    That’s when everything would begin to move in a blur. Komaeda would go from laying in your lap to hovering over you, lips pressed against your own in a sloppy, desperate kiss. You’d wrap your arms around his neck and he’d let an arm slip to the small of your back, pressing you further against him. You’d grin into the kiss, your own movements more calculated than his own, trying to convey your feelings without scaring him off. Somewhere along the way you’d end up pressed against the bed as well, and before long Komaeda would pull away, gasping for air as his eyes would lock onto your own. Your breathing, while still panting slightly, wasn’t as uneven as his, due to the fact that your health was in a far better condition than his own. Nonetheless, you’d still smile and cup his cheek as he caught his breath, and he’d nuzzle into your palm while never breaking eye contact.

    Once his breathing finally settled, he’d flop next to you, and you’d turn your back to him so he could pull you against his chest, tangling his legs with your own. He’d bury his face in your hair, mumbling to himself as you’d simply hum, both of you too exhausted and still slightly on edge to do much else. Eventually his murmurs would die off, signaling to you that he finally fell asleep. You’d feel your own eyelids grow heavy, and you too would slip into a dreamless slumber, okay with the fact that both of you would wake up in a few hours as if nothing had happened.

  
The two of you were never for talking, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I apologize if I've gone about Ko's mental state in an offensive or extremely incorrect manner?? I only have experience with varying forms of depression, anxiety, and low self worth, so??? I read through his wiki, like, twice and re-read multiple parts even more, so I hope that it's not too bad? I get really nervous about this stuff I apologize aaaaaaaa


End file.
